posted 24 December 2014 03:44 EDT (US)
Twas a night before Christmas,
and all through the skies,
were yelps of alarm
and cries of surprise.
What is this? Why has this been done?
A seraph has fallen, and not for plain fun.
Twas not the Hoppy one, nor the one so gory and hoary,
I shall hold you in suspense no longer; here is the story:
Twas indeed a night before Christmas, just not the night before. Or was it? Time is so difficult to keep track of. When 1300 years you live, such a good memory will you not have, hmm? Anyway, Skippy dropped by to let Terikel know something was up. The Ancient One heard his tale, nodded, and decided to take action.
“Hey EoJ,” said Terikel as he approached his fellow seraph. EoJ was feeling a bit down, staring out the window from his hospital bed.
“Why do you always call me that?” he asked the Viking.
“Because I cannot spell your full name,” the Viking replied sheepishly.
“Neither can I, but that never stopped me,” EoJ replied, exasperated.
Terikel grinned.
“Why are you here, anyway?”
Terikel shrugged. “A birdie told me you were feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Damn Awesome Eagle,” EoJ whispered bitterly. “He never could keep a secret.”
The Viking shook his head. “Not him. A real birdie. That one, to be exact.” The Viking pointed to a small starling that flitted about. EoJ zapped it with a lightning bolt. It dropped in scattered ashes.
“That was not very nice,” Terikel said, zapping the falling ashes with power and restoring the starling to life. It raced off. “It was concerned. We all are.”
EoJ’s head rolled over from the window to the room.
Terikel grinned broadly. “Get out of that lazy bed and let some blood flow.” He raised the Banhammer and spun it about on its handle before offering it to his fellow seraph. “Look! A spambot in the Game Mod forum! Get it!”
EoJ looked at the Banhammer then out the window. He saw the spambot- an irritating little beast- and lifted the telephone. “Swampy, spambot in Game Mods. He’s yours.”
He hung up the phone and laid back, exhausted.
Terikel looked perturbed. That is a big word meaning confused and distraught. Or not very happy, in any event. So was he at this moment. No staffie- ever- refused a chance to wield the Banhammer on such an obvious target. Ever. Something was definitely wrong.
A light bulb lit up. Not literally, but in the Norwegian’s head. “I have it! You need an adventure! Come, let us go survey our realm!”
“The doctors say I caught this that time we surveyed the realm and ended up in a canoe up the River of Time without a paddle. We got soaked when we went over the falls. It stuck.”
Terikel smiled broadly. “Good times. We met Edorix on that trip,-”
“And needed him to tell us to use our wings when we were falling. We were fools.”
“You met Swampy there. He saved us, too, if I recall.”
“Only because you got us lost in the Medieval Morass,” EoJ replied glumly.
“This melancholy is killing me, friend,” Terikel complained at last.
EoJ nodded. “Me too. You know, thinking back, you were there when we first became seraphs here.”
“Yes, I was.”
“And you were at my side when we got lost in the Medieval Morass,” EoJ said.
“True!” Terikel beamed.
“And you were right there in that great battle where we defeated the other guys, but lost half our people. And then the sun was stolen, but we worked hard and got it back. My cabin was destroyed in the process.”
“Good times,” Terikel agreed.
“And you lorded it over that OD invasion, caused by you tweaking the Custom title of one of them to Dumbass of the Day.”
“I think it was Moron of the Month, then Weakminded Fool of the Week before it got down to Dumbass of the Day,” Terikel corrected.
EoJ looked at his colleague. “Through all of this, and the gradual depletion of our halls below, you were there, at my side. Do you know what I think?”
Terikel shook his head.
EoJ grinned cruelly. “I think you bring me bad luck!”
Terikel looked crushed. He rose slowly, towering over the bedridden seraph.
“And you still owe me a cabin,” EoJ spat. “It was never rebuilt.”
“You need a road trip,” Terikel determined. “You need to get out of that bed and go live a little.”
“Been there, done that,” EoJ replied lazily. “Prague.”
But the Viking would not be deterred. “Come, I have a drakonship ready. Full crew- including slave girls to serve us unending horns of honeyed ale, and to service our loins should we so desire.”
“I am no longer a college boy,” EoJ whined. His days of massive hangovers and one-night stands were over. “And I cannot stand honeyed ale. It is mead, you moron.”
“And you probably have a woman salted away somewhere that would not appreciate the slave girls,” Terikel concluded, to the surprised nod of his colleague. “And you are also looking for employment on the other side of that Glass Curtain, are you not?”
EoJ nodded. “I see you do understand.”
“I remember how we helped Yak gain employment when he was in this very same situation, those years ago.”
EoJ’s eyes widened as Terikel drew forth his longsword. He steeled himself for the worst. The Viking had emotion in his eye and a sword in his hand- that was an extremely dangerous combination, as EoJ knew well. One never knew what was going to happen.
“It is the only way,” the Viking said, and struck down upon his friend with six vicious blows.
EoJ never had a chance. Nor did he want one. His problems and disease fell away with each strike of that massive blue-steel blade. Six times the Viking’s sword rose and fell.
He stared down at the floor and the pieces of himself covering it. Then he lifted his hands to the sky and wondered at the pristine skin left behind. “I feel great! I am cured!”
“You are mortal now,” the Viking said, pointing to the shorn wings littering the floor. Already they were beginning to decay into dust. “I nipped a bit of your departing power and shunted it into Swampy- I hope you don’t mind. He is a full Angel now.”
“Well-deserved,” EoJ agreed. “And now?”
“Now I drop you into the world below as we had Edorix, and Punic, and Bastworshipper, and Drakontos, and Yak and Gaius before them. The rest of us carry on.”
EoJ stood still.
“Come,” the Viking said with a wave. He unfolded his wings- the six wings of a seraph, and used two of them to envelope the mortal. “It is time. The heavens will go on to the bitter end, and you will visit from time to time. But life goes on, and people change with the times. We gain jobs, meet women, settle down, have children, age, and eventually die to return to the heavens. You shall go softly into the Night, taking your dreams, as shall we all. It’s the rule. We all change.”
“Except you.”
“Every rule has an exception,” the Viking laughed. He lifted them into the sky with beats of four powerful wings, then swooped down toward the ground below at a terrifying speeds. EoJ would have screamed in terror, but did not- he trusted the Viking to know what he was doing.
This time.
But maybe he shouldn’t….
There was true emotion in the Viking’s eye, and the groundwas rising incredibly swiftly…
|||||||||||||||| A transplanted Viking, born a millennium too late. |||||||||||||||||
|||||||||||||||| Too many Awards to list in Signature, sorry lords...|||||||||||||||||
|||||||||||||||| Listed on my page for your convenience and envy.|||||||||||||||||
Somewhere over the EXCO Rainbow
Master Skald, Order of the Silver Quill, Guild of the Skalds
Champion of the Sepia Joust- Joust I, II, IV, VI, VII, VIII
and all through the skies,
were yelps of alarm
and cries of surprise.
What is this? Why has this been done?
A seraph has fallen, and not for plain fun.
Twas not the Hoppy one, nor the one so gory and hoary,
I shall hold you in suspense no longer; here is the story:
Twas indeed a night before Christmas, just not the night before. Or was it? Time is so difficult to keep track of. When 1300 years you live, such a good memory will you not have, hmm? Anyway, Skippy dropped by to let Terikel know something was up. The Ancient One heard his tale, nodded, and decided to take action.
“Hey EoJ,” said Terikel as he approached his fellow seraph. EoJ was feeling a bit down, staring out the window from his hospital bed.
“Why do you always call me that?” he asked the Viking.
“Because I cannot spell your full name,” the Viking replied sheepishly.
“Neither can I, but that never stopped me,” EoJ replied, exasperated.
Terikel grinned.
“Why are you here, anyway?”
Terikel shrugged. “A birdie told me you were feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Damn Awesome Eagle,” EoJ whispered bitterly. “He never could keep a secret.”
The Viking shook his head. “Not him. A real birdie. That one, to be exact.” The Viking pointed to a small starling that flitted about. EoJ zapped it with a lightning bolt. It dropped in scattered ashes.
“That was not very nice,” Terikel said, zapping the falling ashes with power and restoring the starling to life. It raced off. “It was concerned. We all are.”
EoJ’s head rolled over from the window to the room.
Terikel grinned broadly. “Get out of that lazy bed and let some blood flow.” He raised the Banhammer and spun it about on its handle before offering it to his fellow seraph. “Look! A spambot in the Game Mod forum! Get it!”
EoJ looked at the Banhammer then out the window. He saw the spambot- an irritating little beast- and lifted the telephone. “Swampy, spambot in Game Mods. He’s yours.”
He hung up the phone and laid back, exhausted.
Terikel looked perturbed. That is a big word meaning confused and distraught. Or not very happy, in any event. So was he at this moment. No staffie- ever- refused a chance to wield the Banhammer on such an obvious target. Ever. Something was definitely wrong.
A light bulb lit up. Not literally, but in the Norwegian’s head. “I have it! You need an adventure! Come, let us go survey our realm!”
“The doctors say I caught this that time we surveyed the realm and ended up in a canoe up the River of Time without a paddle. We got soaked when we went over the falls. It stuck.”
Terikel smiled broadly. “Good times. We met Edorix on that trip,-”
“And needed him to tell us to use our wings when we were falling. We were fools.”
“You met Swampy there. He saved us, too, if I recall.”
“Only because you got us lost in the Medieval Morass,” EoJ replied glumly.
“This melancholy is killing me, friend,” Terikel complained at last.
EoJ nodded. “Me too. You know, thinking back, you were there when we first became seraphs here.”
“Yes, I was.”
“And you were at my side when we got lost in the Medieval Morass,” EoJ said.
“True!” Terikel beamed.
“And you were right there in that great battle where we defeated the other guys, but lost half our people. And then the sun was stolen, but we worked hard and got it back. My cabin was destroyed in the process.”
“Good times,” Terikel agreed.
“And you lorded it over that OD invasion, caused by you tweaking the Custom title of one of them to Dumbass of the Day.”
“I think it was Moron of the Month, then Weakminded Fool of the Week before it got down to Dumbass of the Day,” Terikel corrected.
EoJ looked at his colleague. “Through all of this, and the gradual depletion of our halls below, you were there, at my side. Do you know what I think?”
Terikel shook his head.
EoJ grinned cruelly. “I think you bring me bad luck!”
Terikel looked crushed. He rose slowly, towering over the bedridden seraph.
“And you still owe me a cabin,” EoJ spat. “It was never rebuilt.”
“You need a road trip,” Terikel determined. “You need to get out of that bed and go live a little.”
“Been there, done that,” EoJ replied lazily. “Prague.”
But the Viking would not be deterred. “Come, I have a drakonship ready. Full crew- including slave girls to serve us unending horns of honeyed ale, and to service our loins should we so desire.”
“I am no longer a college boy,” EoJ whined. His days of massive hangovers and one-night stands were over. “And I cannot stand honeyed ale. It is mead, you moron.”
“And you probably have a woman salted away somewhere that would not appreciate the slave girls,” Terikel concluded, to the surprised nod of his colleague. “And you are also looking for employment on the other side of that Glass Curtain, are you not?”
EoJ nodded. “I see you do understand.”
“I remember how we helped Yak gain employment when he was in this very same situation, those years ago.”
EoJ’s eyes widened as Terikel drew forth his longsword. He steeled himself for the worst. The Viking had emotion in his eye and a sword in his hand- that was an extremely dangerous combination, as EoJ knew well. One never knew what was going to happen.
“It is the only way,” the Viking said, and struck down upon his friend with six vicious blows.
EoJ never had a chance. Nor did he want one. His problems and disease fell away with each strike of that massive blue-steel blade. Six times the Viking’s sword rose and fell.
He stared down at the floor and the pieces of himself covering it. Then he lifted his hands to the sky and wondered at the pristine skin left behind. “I feel great! I am cured!”
“You are mortal now,” the Viking said, pointing to the shorn wings littering the floor. Already they were beginning to decay into dust. “I nipped a bit of your departing power and shunted it into Swampy- I hope you don’t mind. He is a full Angel now.”
“Well-deserved,” EoJ agreed. “And now?”
“Now I drop you into the world below as we had Edorix, and Punic, and Bastworshipper, and Drakontos, and Yak and Gaius before them. The rest of us carry on.”
EoJ stood still.
“Come,” the Viking said with a wave. He unfolded his wings- the six wings of a seraph, and used two of them to envelope the mortal. “It is time. The heavens will go on to the bitter end, and you will visit from time to time. But life goes on, and people change with the times. We gain jobs, meet women, settle down, have children, age, and eventually die to return to the heavens. You shall go softly into the Night, taking your dreams, as shall we all. It’s the rule. We all change.”
“Except you.”
“Every rule has an exception,” the Viking laughed. He lifted them into the sky with beats of four powerful wings, then swooped down toward the ground below at a terrifying speeds. EoJ would have screamed in terror, but did not- he trusted the Viking to know what he was doing.
This time.
But maybe he shouldn’t….
There was true emotion in the Viking’s eye, and the ground
|||||||||||||||| A transplanted Viking, born a millennium too late. |||||||||||||||||
|||||||||||||||| Too many Awards to list in Signature, sorry lords...|||||||||||||||||
|||||||||||||||| Listed on my page for your convenience and envy.|||||||||||||||||
Somewhere over the EXCO Rainbow
Master Skald, Order of the Silver Quill, Guild of the Skalds
Champion of the Sepia Joust- Joust I, II, IV, VI, VII, VIII
[This message has been edited by Terikel Grayhair (edited 12-24-2014 @ 08:04 AM).]
